Linda's Poems

I don't even bother to lock the car since the area is deserted. The sky is a paragraph of sadness and the wind a scythe slicing through ...

May 2: Weather or Not We decided not to go boating today because the weatherman is predicting thunder showers this afternoon. So, I'm s...

Thursday 3/19/09 Poem inspired by Dead Poets' Society Beads We were getting ready to go to church. I put on decent slacks and a...

Sand, like wet cement, sucks at my sneakers as I walk along the foggy shore. My sharp thoughts cut through, separating the halves of my life...

Reflect Two bicycles and a palm tree are upside down, reflected in the mirror of our canal. I'd rather be on one of those bik...

The sun is a figment dissipated into memory. Rusty trees are reflected in the steel water. Fog floats over the mountain and blends in...

Present Today was wrapped in pale silver paper. It rained from the time I woke up alone to this moment when I'm sitting by mysel...

Pleasure I wake to the sound of rain typing a poem on the camper roof. I’m alone for a change, my bed a cool lake of dreams. I...

I like to slide out of bed early like a letter out of an envelope without bumping anything so he won’t wake up. But he stirs and...

I don’t have a basket on my bike like Dorothy for Toto in The Wizard of Oz but I do have saddlebags. In them I pack my life: statione...

Kylie said, “Grammy, you want to go to the playground?” I closed my laptop. I saw two students sneak into a secluded stairwell for a qu...

Seven Sins I went a whole day once without appreciating the beauty of nature I saw a beggar at an intersection and turned my head awa...

ReadWritePoem prompts us to write an acrostic today.  And for journal writing in my classes today the prompt was: Write about wanting to lea...

I’m the one with a sense of humor. I don’t rage like fire with a hot tongue nor am I stoic like the patient earth and I don’t ha...

The fog descends over my brain like spider webs I can’t escape. See how it nestles into the nooks and crannies of my mind creating...

After Having My Tubes Tied Snip, goodbye Snip, goodbye the poet, the pilot, the mechanic, the waitress, the logger, the teacher. G...

I limp into Friday evening from the bruises of the week. Walk in the door stow my school bag away for a couple days Massage the back...

Outside-in In bed the fan on I smell the sky I taste the salty stars I inhale the moon into my dreams. Under layers of quilts my b...

I walked out onto the snow-covered porch this morning in my slippers and PJs to take a picture of the moon just before it slipped b...

This poem popped into my head as soon as I saw the prompt. I wrote it almost 20 years ago when I first started writing poetry and everything...